After three and a half years of combing through ACES, I have finally found the coolest class at Duke. PE 52-Fencing. I know it doesn't sound like the greatest course to take, but it is the most fun I have had in a class, and when you look at my supposedly
well-rounded Duke curriculum, it is unfortunately one of my most educational.
As great as the class is, I would like to make a few changes to the sport of fencing itself. Now I realize that after attending just four classes, I am not in much of a position to change a sport that has been around for several centuries. But if baseball
can have inter-league play and boxers can wear gloves, then I can suggest a few changes.
Number one-the foil. Or saber or epee. The first problem is just saying it. Foy-elle, say-bear or eh-pay. Is it possible to sound any wimpier while holding a sword? If I want to threaten someone, I don't want to say:
Excuse me, but if you don't stop, I will be forced to thrash you with my foy-elle.
It just isn't menacing enough. These are long thin pieces of metal that bend when you make contact. They're like extra-long skewers. When I walked into class on the first day, I grabbed one and started looking around for the tomatoes, jumbo shrimp and a b
arbecue pit.
I have a better idea. Two words-broad sword. The padded jackets that we wear wouldn't really do much against these weapons, so the athletic department would have to shell out a little more money and buy some armor. Then we'd have ourselves a sport.
Problem two-the calisthenics thing. We walk into class ready to throw down, but end up stretching out and doing this jazzercize type thing for 20 minutes. And the thing is, it hurts. These are not simple stretches. My favorite one is when we stand with ou
r legs apart and lean to one side to stretch the inside of our legs. First we touch our closest elbow to the foot of the side we are leaning to, then our other elbow, and finally our nose. I don't know about you, but with my diet I have a problem just see
ing my feet, much less putting my nose to them.
I was talked into taking the class by my roommate, who told me it would be fun if a big group of us took it together. I later found out that the only reason he wanted me enrolled was so that he could beat the hell out of me for leaving the dishes in the s
ink too long. This leads me to my next point.
Problem three-lack of weight divisions. When we first started dueling, we were told to just pick any partner and pretend like we knew what we were doing. I instantly grabbed one of my shorter friends, thinking back to high school and how easy it was to pi
ck on little kids (I know this because I was one of the little kids, believe it or not). This, however, was a poor idea.
The whole idea of fencing is to lunge forward and hit your opponent. When I lunged at one of my 4-foot-10 friends, my sword would go right over his shoulder. When they lunged back I would be lucky if he reached up above my waist to hit me. I spent more th
an my share of time on the sidelines that day.
My roommate is a similarly tricky opponent, but in a different way. To understand, grab a large wooden spoon or similar utensil from your room and have someone hold a sheet of notebook paper horizontally. Try and jab the side of the paper. Not too easy is
it? That's what it's like to fence my roommate.
Have you ever heard the expression, "He couldn't hit the broad side of a barn?" Well, I'm the broad side of that barn, and believe me, I am very hittable. I wake up every morning with welts all over my shoulders and chest. My girlfriend is starting to get
very suspicious.
For these reasons, I believe that it is essential that we go into a weight class kind of system. This, with some armor and a broad sword, would really pick up the sport.
I would like to say in all seriousness that the class is a lot of fun. Those of you who think of stolen TVs and radios when I mention fencing should stop by Card Gym this weekend to see either of Duke's fencing teams in action. While I haven't been invite
d to join the team yet, it is still an entertaining sport to watch.
William Dvoranchik is associate sports editor of the Chronicle and will probably still be a Trinity senior next year after Coach Beguinet reads this and fails him in fencing, leaving him with only 33.5 of the 34 credits necessary for graduation.
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